


The Man in the Faded Boston Hat

by UncleNansi



Series: Jackie [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, M/M, Misunderstandings, Past Neglect, lost brother au, past homophobia, the au multiverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23729449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UncleNansi/pseuds/UncleNansi
Summary: Jack has a stalker.
Relationships: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Jackie [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709194
Comments: 10
Kudos: 91
Collections: OMGCP - Lost Uncle AU





	The Man in the Faded Boston Hat

**Author's Note:**

> All credit goes to onawingandaswear for starting this au, this is my take on an au of an au... .bear with us...
> 
> some background:
> 
> Bob has a long lost brother. Here's one way it could go.

Believe it or not, Jack often is too tired on his runs to notice anything unusual. Which is why he has no idea just how many times he’s seen the greying man watching him in the park during his run.

After that he starts counting, the worn Bruins cap is easy enough to spot. Jack makes eye contact with him once and thinks he’s seen the man before—a meet and greet? Maybe he’s a scout for somewhere. The man looks away and hides his face behind a newspaper before Jack can figure it out.

He’s careful after that.

Jack won’t realize its his stalker until after he turns around for a double look, and at that point the man has turned down another path out of sight. One day the man is feeding ducks and Jack doesn’t recognize the Bruins hat until after he’s gotten home.

“He’s probably just a fan, Jack,” Bitty tells him, sleepy on the other side of the bed. “Maybe talk to him and he’ll leave you alone after he gets a signature.”

Jack knows fans, he’s had to deal with them his whole life. No shaky hand holding a camera or nervous way of trying to be seen. The man does his best to blend in.

Except for the Bruins hat.

Bitty gives Jack a can of mace.

“Uh…”

“For when you go on your runs,” Bitty explains, “Lord knows you need it.”

“Excuse you, I play hockey,” Jack says, mock hurt.

Bitty rolls his eyes, “Have you ever fought someone _off_ the ice?”

Jack hasn’t. So he brings the pink leopard print mace can in his pocket, but he doesn’t see the man in the Bruins hat.

He’s back the next week.

It’s a chill morning, especially for July, but the sun is already above the horizon and Jack thinks he’ll go on a long run. He doesn’t have to worry about someone jumping him, stabbing him, and cutting off his face, so he’s feeling excited for a run in the first time this summer.

He still brings the mace, it’s become a comfortable weight in his pocket.

Jack takes his long route through the park, stopping only once to take a picture of some geese for Bitty, who won’t see it for another few hours; but once Jack comes home and Bitty wakes up to greet him he’ll check his phone and let out a short, single laugh and grin for Jack to see. Jack gets warm thinking about it, and thanks the geese before continuing.

Jack turns a bend, confident he’ll make a new best time. There’s a figure coming down the path, walking casually and wearing a hat. Jack doesn’t get nervous, they’ll probably turn off to go to the bridge just a few feet away.

They don’t turn off. Jack still isn’t worried.

They’re on a long straight away, trees on both sides and the lake just a stone’s through past that. Jack isn’t worried. He sees the Bruins logo on the hat.

Jack grabs his mace in his pocket.

Jack tells himself he won’t use it, but just in case. He’s going to run past the man, the man will walk by. Maybe Jack will smile and make a quip about not seeing him in a while. The man will laugh and say, “Hey, don’t you play hockey?” and Jack will say “Oh, just a bit, eh?” And maybe the man and Jack will be friends and Jack can introduce him to Bitty for dinner and they’ll be early morning park buddies.

The man stops, a few feet in front of Jack and removes his hat; his brows furrow and he scowls.

“I have mace!” Jack screams. He stops, feet wide in case he needs to dodge an attack. He pulls out his pink can and aims it at the man. “I’m not afraid to use it!

Bruins Hat quirks his head, “Oh… I’m—”

“Why are you following me?!” Jack’s voice cracks and he really, really wishes it hadn’t. He was trying to be intimidating.

The man sighs and shakes his head, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I’m not scared.” Jack straightens up a little, lowers his—puny—can of mace. “Why are you following me?” he asks again.

The man stares at Jack, working his mouth around to find the words. Jack looks back.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” he asks, “You look so familiar.”

Bruins Hat gasps, and in an instant his eyes are wet and spilling over. “No,” he chokes out, “This was a mistake.” He shoves his hat back atop his head and turns to hurry back down the path, “I’m sorry.”

“Wait!” Jack calls, but he doesn’t follow. He watches the man hurry down the path with his head hunched and hands in tight fists at his sides.

Jack doesn’t stop thinking about Bruins Hat. He takes extra long runs, runs in the afternoon, he drags Bitty there a few times.

“Why are you using me as bait?” Bitty protests, watching Jack walk away from the bench they had been sitting on.

“If he knows me he knows you!” Jack calls, “But shhh, I’m not here.” Jack climbs into the bushes off the path, shoving himself behind a trunk just so that he can peak through the bushes and see anyone coming down the path.

His phone dings.

_If I die, Im haunting u so hard._

_You won’t die bits. Hes nice_

_If hes so nce why rnt u out here_

_If he sees me he wont come down here_

_But im weak and small so not a threat_

_No I just need to get close to him_

_Change my contact info to ‘shark bait’ in ur phone_

Jack’s about to answer when he hears footsteps approaching. He freezes, and cranes his head at the perfect angle to see two men with a bounding, floppy eared dog with them.

And a Bruins hat.

“ _Bitty_!” he whispers.

“I know, I know,” Bitty mutters back, “Lord, you better be right about him being nice or I’m about to get murdered in a ditch.”

And what he does next makes Jack realize how smart and cunning his boyfriend is, because he jumps up, squeals and goes, “Can I pet your dog?!”

The men, one of which is definitely Bruins Hat, the other blond and arm in arm with him, freeze and blink at Bitty, recognition dawning on them. Bitty drops down to his knees to wrap the dog up in a hug, grinning through the slobbery kisses he get. “He’s so—ugh—cute.”

Jack springs from the bushes, nearly tripping onto his face when his leg is tangled by a branch when he does so. The dog yips at him, tail wagging ferociously, and Bruins Hat cries out in surprise.

Jack stands before them, scratched up to hell and covered in foliage still. He doesn’t know what to say.

“Can I pet your dog?”

The blond man snorts, then lets out a full belly laugh. “He’s definitely your fucking nephew. Oh my God.”

Bitty shoots to his feet, “Nephew?!”

Jack does a quick list of his uncles, none of them were Bruins, and none of his aunties and uncles on his mom’s side would be caught dead in khakis.

The blond man is still laughing, and the man in the Bruins Hat has simply put his head in his hands.

Bruins Hat won’t even tell Jack and Bitty his name until they go somewhere to sit down and talk properly. (“Honey, you’re being ridiculous,” the blond man protests but doesn’t divulge his identity.)

Jack wonders just how deep this rabbit hole goes, but he dutifully follows out of the park and to the coffee shop across the street.

They sit on the patio, the slobbery dog putting his head on Jack’s knee to receive attention.

The blond man speaks first—only after staring at his husband for a good while and nodding at Jack. He huffs and gets up, “I’m going to get us some lattes and a fruit tart. _So talk to him._ ” He shoots a fond smile at Jack before walking away.

Jack stares at Bruins Hat, who is staring pointedly, not at Jack.

“Nephew?” Bitty manages, patting Jack’s arm. “We could start there?”

The man in the Bruins Hat removes his cap, and places it on the table. He takes a deep breath and nods, “I thought… your father had told you about me. I assumed I guess. But when you asked how you knew me… I realized that I shouldn’t have assumed. I mean,” he laughs, but there are tears coming down his cheeks, “I haven’t seen your father in decades.”

He leans in, “My name is Jacques Zimmermann… I’m Robert’s brother. I ran away before Bobby was even out of bantams.”

Bitty gasps beside Jack, jaw to the floor. Jack just stares at him, and—he can’t deny this man is his uncle. He can’t. He’s familiar because he looks like _Bob;_ because he looks like Jack too.

Jack swears under his breath as the world starts to spin.

“I’m sorry to tell you like this. If your father didn’t tell you I should have stayed away. But I kept chickening out to talk to you and then when I did you had no idea who I was, so I was just going to stay away. We’re going back home in a few days, we were… we were going to just chalk it up to a loss.” Jacques is rambling now, clearing realizing just how crazy, ludicrous, absolutely fucking batshit insane this is.

Jack lets out a breathy laugh and backs his chair up so he can put his head between his knees.

“Sweetpea?” Bitty rubs his back, “You good?”

“Yup,” Jack says, there’s a dog sniffing him and whining in concern, “Just trying not to pass out.”

“I’m so sorry,” he hears Jacques say.

“What in the hell did you do to him?” the blond man’s voice filters back, “Jackie!”

“It’s—I—I tried to be gentle!”

“In his, uh, Jacques, defense it’s pretty big news.” Bitty is still rubbing his back. “Um, I-I’m Eric…”

“Daniel,” the blond man says, “And we know, kiddo. This is Pumpernickel.”

“Oh, wow. Haha…”

Jack takes a deep breath and slowly straightens up. Daniel is smiling at him, offering a glass of ice water, “Drink this. You’ll feel better.”

The table is quiet as they drink, the sound of the street and Pumpernickel lapping up water from a bowl. Jack guzzles his water and chews on the ice.

Daniel prods Jacques to keep talking after a moment.

“I ran away because… well, it was a different time.”

Daniel scoffs, “I’m sure your father is still an ass.”

“Danny, please—but he’s right your grandfather found out about Daniel and me, and he threw me out. And, it was 1971 the Bruins wouldn’t have me after that.”

“Why wouldn’t Bob tell anyone? How didn’t _anyone_ tell us? You’re not on Wikipedia!” Bitty says.

Jacques shrugged, “I figured Papa told everyone I was dead.”

“That doesn’t mean my dad couldn’t tell me I had a gay uncle,” Jack says. “That doesn’t mean he had the right to hide it from me, especially since—” he stops himself, and glances at Bitty.

“Jack by the time you were born I hadn’t seen him in 19 years. I hadn’t seen anyone. I made sure to disappear.”

“But still…” Jack whispers.

“Did Bob ever try to talk to you?” Bitty asks. He reaches for Jack’s hand under the table, and Jack holds it, tight.

“I have no way of knowing if he did.”

“We moved a lot the first few years,” Daniel says. “Made our way to San Francisco, which is amazing. But Jackie missed the snow.”

“Knowing my father, Bobby was too—”

“Why come find me now?” Jack interrupts, “Why not after the overdose? I assume you followed all the news? All this time?”

Daniel snorts, “Followed the news? Jackie has a shrine to you tw—”

“Danny!” Jacques says, “It’s not… like that, I just… You play good hockey.”

“Christ,” Daniel laughs, “Tell the kid! I’m sure he’d love to know his long-lost uncle is his biggest fan. That’s not a bad thing!”

Jacques smiles, and glances at Jack, but he doesn’t say it. But Jack doesn’t need to hear it. He knows it. And it brings him damn near to tears thinking about this poor man being tossed out from his family and still standing in his corner, rooting for him.

“I wanted to come after the draft,” Jacques whispers, “But that would have been too much. That wouldn’t have been fair.”

Bitty convinces Jacques and Daniel to come over for dinner, insisting they bring Pumpernickel and all the stories of their adventures they can. Jack is standing awkwardly while Bitty insists, he wonders if it’d be weird to hug Jacques. He’s his uncle, but they haven’t seen each other, but Jack has a gay uncle and he can’t help but think how much that might have helped growing up.

“Jack come on, we have to go to the grocery store.”

“Oh, yeah, see you later,” Jack follows Bitty, still wondering just how even a number to call when Bad Fucking Bob stumbled through a sex talk but also ‘this will ruin your future’ talk when he caught Jack making out with a Leonardo DiCaprio picture.

Jack is furious by the time they make it to the car.

“You drive,” he says to Bitty.

“ _O_ -kay. No problem. Did you want to talk about it?” Jack slams his door and rips his phone out of his pocket.

“We don’t have to! I can tell you about the chicken cordon blue I’m about to make.”

“That sounds wonderful but I have to yell at someone quick.”

“Hun, I know you’re mad but do you want to wait a second maybe? Collect your thoughts?” Bitty pulls out of the parking lot, “Just thinking.”

“Nope. Calling now. He’s lucky if I come home for Thanksgiving.”

“Alright. I support you.”

The phone is ringing and Jack _is_ trying to calm down a little. He pats Bitty’s thigh, “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“ _Hello, Jack!_ ” Bob answers.

“Hey, why didn’t you ever tell me about your brother?” Jack spits. Bitty glances at him, only picking up a few words of the French.

Bob is silent.

“Dad. Jacques. Your brother. The one you haven’t even tried to talk to for forty years.”

_“Jack, how do you…”_

“I just met my gay uncle who has been watching all my games and reading all about me in the news because he couldn’t know me in person. You think that would have been nice to know? Even if he’s a Bruins fan!”

_“Wait. Jack. Slow down.”_

“No! You fucking lied to me and so did fucking grandpa! How could you keep this from me?! How dare you hide my relatives from me!”

_“Jack, please. You have to just calm down.”_

“I DON’T WANT TO CALM DOWN! My whole life, my whole life I’ve had this gay uncle with an awesome husband and a cute dog and if I had known that? If I had known that I could be _happy_ and still love a man I…” The fight drains out of Jack, he relaxes his shoulders and puts down the hand he had raised. “I would have given the world to be able to know someone like that when I was 17.”

Jack waits for Bob to respond, but all he hears is sobbing on the other end. 

Jack hears himself crying too, and when he touches his face it's wet.

"Papa?"

_"I'm so sorry, Jack. You're right. You're right I messed up. I messed up. I'm so sorry."_

"I'm sorry for yelling."

_"No, don't—I—"_ Bob can't finish. A gut-wrenching sob comes out of him, killing his sentence.

"I—…"

_"Jack, I'll explain everything. I promise. Just give me some time and I'll explain everything."_

"Papa—"

The line goes dead.

  
  


Bitty cooks in a whirlwind while Jack cleans their apartment. They hurry to make the place nice, neither one wanting to stop to think about just what the fuck is going on.

"Oh Lord, you have leaves in your hair. Come on," Bitty drags him to the shower and they both hop in.

"You think he still plays hockey?" Jack asks as Bitty gets his back, "Maybe we can play together."

"I'm sure he'd love that, sugar." Bitty turns Jack around. "You're excited to have an uncle then?"

Jack tilts his head back to rinse his hair, thinking. "Maybe I'm excited that he's gay."

Bitty nods, "A gay aunt was the stuff of dreams growing up. She'd bring awesome presents and wear a fur coat…"

"You thought a lot about this, huh?" Jack teases, he turns Bitty to lather up his hair.

"I did. I'm close with my mama, but she doesn't get it." 

"No."

Bitty sighs, "A gay uncle will have to do."

"He plays hockey."

"Mm-hmm."

"He's married."

"Are they married? We never asked. I mean they are as good as but it's important to know how they refer to each other."

"For sure,” Jack says, “I like husband.”

Bitty giggles, and tilts his head back to lean on Jack’s chest, peering up at him through wet eyelashes. “I’ll remember that.”

  
  


They still have time before Jacques and Daniel get to their place, so Bitty decides to throw together a cobbler for dessert. He sets Jack to work chopping strawberries, even if he has to correct him a few times.

When the buzzer rings Jack nearly chops off a finger.

“I should go get them,” Jack says, “Or, we both should—?”

  
“Let me throw this together, you go? Is that okay?” Bitty grabs his arm, making Jack look him in the eye, “Are you alright?”

  
Jack _is_ alright. He’s more than alright. He’s excited, he’s stoked. 

“Yeah,” he says, “I’m alright.”

  
  


Daniel is the talker, Jack quickly learns. He talks about Jack and Bitty mostly, about Bitty’s historic senior season and Jack’s rookie cup win. Jacques jumps in quite a bit, admitting that he watches Bitty’s Youtube after _Buzzfeed_ did an article on them.

“What about you?” Jack asks as Bitty hands out dessert. “I want to know about you.”

  
Jacques laughs, “Sorry, sorry. We’ve been going on and on.” His face is less strained, his eyes bright. “Holy shit, this cobbler looks amazing.”

  
Daniel groans around a bite, “It’s terrible. I’ll take your piece.”

Bitty laughs, “Oh, it’s nothing. Just something quick.”

“Can you accept a compliment!” Daniel points his fork at Jack, “You watch out, a man like this one might get snatched up if you don’t treat him right.”

Bitty snickers and ducks his head to hide his blush. Jack smiles, “Oh, I know.”

“Danny, hush, don’t cause problems,” Jacques scolds, mouth full. “This is really fucking good cobbler though.”

“Thank you,” Bitty says, giggling.

“It took Jacques years to learn how to cook. I nearly left him over it. Really!” Daniel smiles fondly at Jacques, “I said, ‘you have no hope of keeping a man with cooking like this.’”

Jacques rolls his eyes, “Yeah, and you still stuck around. Can’t get rid of you.”

They’re on a second round of dessert and talking about pulling out a game when there’s a knock at the door.

Jack startles. “Who is that?” he asks Bitty.

Bitty shakes his head, “I don’t know, someone the doorman knows.”

Jack gets up again, the mystery knocker pounding again.

“One second.”

“Jack, grab your mace!” Bitty says, making Daniel and Jacques laugh.

“Haha.” Jack swings the door open, expecting Shitty or Lardo looking to crash for a bit and more than happy to introduce them to his uncles.

But it’s not Shitty or Lardo or Tater. It’s Bad Bob in the flesh.

  
“Papa,” Jack gasps, “You--What are you doing here?! You can’t just—”

Bob pushes his way in, “I couldn’t tell you everything over the phone. My darling boy.” He wraps Jack up in a hug, “I needed to do this in person. I messed up so bad.”

Jack pats his father on the back, mind racing a mile a minute with some idea how to stop what he thinks is about to happen from happening. He notices that the dining room is horribly silent, and that there’s a very short corner before Bob and Jacques are face to face.

“Papa, really. H-How did you get here—you have to go. At least for—...we have to go somewhere else. Can we do this somewhere else?” He pulls away from his father’s embrace, “Papa…”

Bob is in tears again, “I messed up so bad, Jack. I ruined two lives, and then I was too ashamed to even tell you.”

Bob holds on to Jack’s steady arms, struggling to get out what he needs to say. “My brother, Jacques. You’re named after him and I didn’t even tell you he existed.”

  
“I’m named after Grandpa.”  
  
  
“Fuck your Grandpa,” Bob mutters, swiping his arm across his eyes, “He told me Jackie had died. I shouldn’t have believed him but… but…”

  
Bob straightens up, sucking in a deep breath and trying to regain himself. “It’s my fault your uncle was kicked out, didn’t get signed. I was ashamed to tell you, but I’m ready to. It’s long past overdue… I’m sorry.”

  
  


“It wasn’t your fault.”

Jack turns, stepping to the side to look at Jacques. He smiles, “Damn, you really are taller than me.”

  
It must be like looking in a mirror. Jacques a little more grey, a little more grizzled, just a smidge shorter and softer. But their noses and brows are the same, the strong chin. Even more strangely are the ears: identical.

  
  


Jack wonders how he didn’t recognize Jacques as a Zimmermann that first day in the park.

  
  


Bob has gone stock still, looking over Jacques with wide, wet eyes.

  
Jacques laughs, tearing up himself, “Well? Say something!”

  
  


Bob doesn’t say anything still.

  
Bob clears his throat, finally breaking his silence. He looks away from Jacques. “I would have… I wanted to…”

  
“I know, Bobby.”

  
  


Jack tenses, suddenly feeling large in this space between his father and uncle. He’s intruding on something intimate with his large blundering size. He’s never seen his father so small, and it feels wrong to be here. Even more so as Bob breaks down again, crying into his hands and muffling his wails.

  
  


“Oh, Bobby,” Jacques tuts, “Shush.” He sweeps past Jack and grabs Bobby up in a big hug, “You haven’t seen me in decades and you just gonna cry about it?”

  
  


Daniel and Bitty peak around the corner. Daniel gives Jack a big smile.

  
  


  
Bob pulls back from Jacques, “Danny? Oh god, you’re alive! You’re both alive!”

  
Daniel laughs, “What do you mean? Of course I’m still alive. And you’re huge!” He steps up for his own hug, fitting in Bob’s chest, “Oh man I miss when you were short.”

  
“I thought you were dead. I thought—”  
  


  
“We’re not, Bobby,” Jacques soothes, “I’m sorry I never… I never called.”

  
  


“I’m sorry,” Bob says, trying to stop his tears yet again, “I’m sorry, it was my—”  
  


“ _Don't_ say it was your fault. Stop it!” Jacques snaps, “Do not blame yourself for this.”

  
  


“I—…”

  
  


“I’m sorry,” Jacques cuts him off, “I shouldn’t have left you with Papa… But as soon as I was in a place to show you I had made something of myself… Hell, you were winning cups. You were playing for our home team. I didn’t want to mess any of that up. I was just happy to watch you living our dream.” He wraps his arm around Bob’s shoulders, “But come on! Enough about us, what about your boy, eh?”

  
  


Bob looks dazed still, Jacques on one side and Daniel on the other. Two men he thought dead a few hours ago.

  
  


“You named him after Jacques?” Daniel chirps, “This mug?”

  
  


“Hey, stop it.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> r0wdie.tumblr.com


End file.
